


Lokabrúðr

by sserpente



Category: Thor (Movies)
Genre: Dom!Loki, F/M, Fluff, Lokean - Freeform, Loki (Marvel) Does What He Wants, Loki smut, References to Norse Religion & Lore, Smut, godspouse, light dub-con, pagan!Reader
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-07
Updated: 2020-09-07
Packaged: 2021-03-07 03:07:06
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,199
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26339986
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sserpente/pseuds/sserpente
Summary: Imagine being a young Lokean raised in a pagan home. While your sister is utterly devoted to the gods and especially Loki, you—for some reason—have always found yourself to be somewhat distanced from your beliefs. That is until one evening Thor and Loki themselves show up in your house, asking for hospitality. Given the both special and honouring occasion, your parents ask if there is anything specific the two gods would like as an offering this night. And while Thor contents himself with all the Midgardian food on the dining table, Loki’s mischievous eyes lock with yours, barely interested in the delicious dishes or your overenthusiastic sister. He wants you. Your virginity.
Relationships: Loki x Reader
Comments: 17
Kudos: 171





	Lokabrúðr

“Seriously, pull yourself together.” Your older sister shook her head, snorting in an indignant manner. You shifted on your black cushion, attempting to get more comfortable—a futile attempt, truly.

“Loki, God of Chaos and Mischief, we summon you to our home tonight to—“

“This is _pointless_ ,” you complained. “I’m not cut out for this.” She groaned when you pushed yourself off the ground and nearly knocked over the black candles she had ignited on the wooden floor. Thick stumps of wax, posing as the only source of light in the otherwise dark room and throwing eerie shadows on the walls, you carefully navigated your way through them until you reached the door.

“We do this _once_ every fucking year, is it _so_ hard to concentrate?”

“I’d rather celebrate Christmas.”

“Fuck, are you nuts? You’ll offend the gods!”

As if on cue, a loud thunder echoed through the crisp autumn air outside, making you both flinch. It seemed to have come right from your backyard and sounded like a portal had opened to pick you up and make you pay for your sins. You swallowed thickly. _Seriously, stop imagining things._

“Loki likes chocolate, right? Halloween is coming up, I’ll put the candy bowl on my altar instead of outside for the children this year.” There was a powerful and eager knock on the front door. Both you and your sister ignored it.

“It’s _our_ altar. A fucking candy bowl, are you kidding me? Yes, Loki is known to like chocolate but what will you offer the other gods? Meditation to connect with them and express your devotion is the _least_ you can do.”

“I feel nothing, okay?” You exclaimed. “I don’t have those dreams you keep talking about, I don’t feel anyone _touching_ my shoulder or something, there’s nothing! You _know_ I asked Loki for a sign. Numerous times, actually. There’s a chance he just doesn’t want to work with me.” You admitted with a sad voice.

“Maybe he thinks you are not ready yet. You should keep trying instead of turning away and giving up.”

Inhaling deeply, you prepared to curse and throw some bad Old Norse words at her—when your mother interrupted your approaching tantrum.

“What _is_ going on in here, girls? Have you forgotten what day it is? You should be ashamed of yourselves.”

“I’m sorry, mother. Supper ready yet?” Your sister asked.

The older woman nodded, albeit accompanied by a reproachful glare. “Come and eat.”

You had opted for some fresh air but then again, food _did_ sound like a good idea. You did not have the faintest idea, however, that doing something as trivial and simple as joining her for supper would turn out to seal your fate.

-

There were two strangers standing in the middle of the dining table when you entered the common living room, seemingly out of place. Your breath caught in your throat. They were tall, one of them blonde, the other raven-haired.

They looked… familiar, to say the least and yet, so otherworldly and odd, their garments strange and unusual.

Your father’s voice sounded tense when he spoke your mother’s name, urging her on to join his side which she did with widened and horrified eyes. Your sister, arriving right behind you gasped, covering her mouth with her palm, your father, who must have greeted and welcomed them first while your mother came to fetch you both, equally shocked.

“I am Thor Odinson,” the blonde began with a roar. “This is my brother Loki. We travelled a long way from Asgard and have come to seek hospitality in your humble home this evening. Our father, Odin Allfather is aware of how much you still honour us and he wishes to express his gratitude by honouring your humble home with our presence.”

“Just a _little_ over the top, brother.” Loki remarked with a quiet voice, a hint of mockery swinging in it. Apart from you, however, no one seemed to notice his jest.

Never before had you seen your father this enthusiastic—and while you were still frozen in place, unable to believe what was unfolding right before your eyes, he appeared to be on the verge of falling to his knees. This… it could not be real. Only a moment ago you had cursed your lame abilities to meditate and connect with the mischievous god and now here he was, in the flesh—right in front of you. _Loki._ You felt both honoured and anxious at the very same time. This must have been a dream.

“It is such an honour to have you. Please, make yourselves at home. My wife, my daughters and I will make sure to provide you with whatever you may need.”

Thor’s nod was both serious and appreciative.

“It has been a while since we visited Midgard. Are the tales still being told and spread across your realm much?”

“Many, my lord… as much as it pains me to say, however, Christianity has taken most of our beliefs away and replaced them with but one Abrahamic God.”

“We’ve heard. I see you have cooked dinner?” Loki resisted the urge to roll his eyes. _Loki._ By the Norns. He was… _beautiful._ His jawline was to die for, his high cheekbones inviting any admirer to brush their knuckles over them and his eyes… full of mischief, sparkling with _chaos_. Were they blue or green? Perhaps the dim lights in the living room were playing tricks on your own eyes.

You understood _now_ why your sister was all but devoted to the God of Mischief, more than you could ever express your admiration. The dark and mysterious energy he was radiating was dizzying, electrifying. His mere presence all but screamed power and wit. Even more so when his magnifying eyes locked with _yours_.

Holding your breath, you forced your legs to move toward the dining table. You came to sit right opposite him, your fingers trembling as they reached for the silver cutlery on the table cloth.

Both your sister (who had much like you not uttered a single word since you had laid your eyes upon the Asgardian brothers for the first time) and you mutely helped serving the food your mother had brought to the table. And with every single move, you felt Loki’s gaze on you, making your entire body tingle. You blushed.

Thor dug in as soon as his plate was full. Your mother had outdone herself for tonight. Roasted chicken and pork surrounded by both cooked and raw vegetables and even fruit. Gravy and some homemade sauces completed the delicious meal, along with two kinds of salads—one with potatoes, the other with tomatoes.

Then, for a while, it became almost eerily silent. No one dared say a word, almost as if you all feared your stories would bore the gods in your living room. You barely touched the contents of your plate. Your stomach was already filled to the brim with nervousness, your heart pounding in your chest. Your sister, on the other hand, was enjoying herself way too much. She practically worshipped the god before her with her eyes, looking up at him with sparkling eyes like a child who had for the first time seen a neatly decorated Christmas tree. Oddly though, Loki paid little attention to her.

“Why is everyone so quiet? Don’t be shy, we do not bite!” Thor spoke eventually as he bit into a fresh bread roll. He was the only one _still_ eating. The crunching, and downright mouth-watering noise echoing across the dining table almost returned your appetite. It was quickly ushered away again, however, when Loki began to smirk ever so slightly. _Thor does not bite then. Loki will make no promises._ This was so surreal.

“Well, w-we, um…” Your mother responded fast, “We planned to hold a ceremony to honour the gods this night. Given the circumstances, however… we would like to take the freedom of asking you in person.”

“Yes,” Your father agreed, “What may we offer our honoured deities? Please, speak freely, what is it you wish? We will do our best to fulfil your desires.”

“There is little that humans can offer to gods what they cannot acquire themselves.” Thor responded matter-of-factly as he bit into another chicken leg with a squishy sound. “We appreciate the thought. I shall be content with more of your delicious food and dessert, too.”

Your mother chuckled at that, her gaze in her lap. “I have made a sweet pie, my lord. I hope you will find it delicious.”

Loki, on the other hand, remained silent. His blue gaze appeared to _burn_ right through you, singeing your skin from the inside out, his lips curling up ever so slightly when you caught him staring. Your stomach dropped. Why was he even interested? Your sister was the one who was so devoted to the God of Mischief, not you.

And quite apparently, she agreed. She was _fuming_ when she noticed Loki’s attention directed at you instead of her. Black-painted lips pressed together to a thin line, she clenched her fists until her knuckles turned white.

“Loki.” Thor hissed. The Trickster’s eyes lit up—much like the fireworks on New Year’s Eve.

“I wish to have you.” He said simply, his eyes never leaving yours. Your lips parted, stomach dropping. Beside you, your sister tensed up.

“I… what?”

“I wish to have you. You are of age, are you not?”

“She is, your highness.” Your father responded before you could even take a deep breath.

“Then she is what I desire as an offering. Her virginity.” Your heart skipped a beat. Or two, maybe even three. Or maybe it stopped beating altogether.

“What makes you assume I’m a virgin?” You snapped before you could stop yourself, furrowing your brows. Loki’s smirk widened—your sister’s eyes filled up with hot tears. You wished he would reconsider and pick her instead. Only your sister was not a virgin anymore either.

“Intuition…” More, unspoken words rested on his silver tongue. You doubted he would explain to you just _how_ he knew you were untouched.

“That… is… that is unusual but then… I’m not… of course, you, um… Then you shall have her.” Your father decided, unable to look you in the eye for your agreement. “It would be a great honour for my daughter, and our whole family.” You flinched when he barked your name. “Show Prince Loki to your room and make sure he is comfortable. Do us proud, daughter.”

_I think I hate this fucking family._ Sleeping with a god? Gifting your innocence to Loki, of all people? You could not deny there was a tiny part of you feeling honoured he had taken a sexual interest in you—a tiny part which urged you on to jump, squealing in excitement. Your relationship to Loki, even before he had decided to appear in your home, was a complicated one. You desired him—in what way, however, you were yet to find out.

You were trembling by the time you stood to obey. Your mother gasped when you beckoned your head for him to follow you without a sound and you only _just_ resisted the urge to roll your eyes. If there was one thing you would not do it was show your fear.

“You are either very _eager_ ,” he said as soon as you had reached your destination, “Or you are simply irrevocably disrespectful in which case… I would do well to discipline you.”

Your heart clenched—or perhaps it was your cunt, your clit throbbing in joyful anticipation at the thought of having _Loki_ putting you over his knee. Biting your lower lip, you turned on your heel to face him. Your tense posture did little to hide your trembling; though if it was excitement of what _might_ await you or simply the ice cold terror coiling in your guts, you did not know. Perhaps he did.

“Why me?” You asked, unwilling to respond to his dark and promising threat. “Why not my sister? She is practically in _love_ with you.” _And I never even managed to get you to send me a sign you are with me too,_ you added quietly.

“You intrigued me.” He said simply, his face once again decorated by that sneaky smirk you longed to wipe off with your fist to _actually_ make him “punish” you. _Norns…_ what had gotten into you?

“Your drawings…” He stated then, skimming your room with vague interest. His blue eyes scanned the many drawings on your bedroom walls and even your wardrobe.

“Oh… yes.” You replied timidly. “Yes… I don’t… I mean I am not a professional. I draw whatever comes to my mind, and I just… never mind.”

“Hmm… I watched you draw so many times it left me wondering why you would let such potential go to waste.” _He watched you draw? When? How?_

“You watched me—”

“You should attend an art school. There are art schools in your realm, are there not?” _Why is he interested?_

“Well, there are… but most of them are private and very expensive. Even with a side job I could never afford that and my parents… well, they’d prefer I learned a, how did they put it, an economically valuable profession?”

“I see. But that is not what you want?” He probed. You avoided his eyes much like you avoided answering his question. What did it matter what you wanted? Ultimately, you needed a job that would pay the bills, not your muse.

“I guess they only want what’s best for me. Not many artists can actually live from their art, I know that myself.”

“You will never find out if you do not try,” He encouraged, “I believe all you need is a little push.” He did not specify what he meant by that, eliciting a frown from you.

“You are good. Very good indeed. Only your depiction of me seems rather off, wouldn’t you agree?” He teased then, gaping at a drawing of him flipping one of his shiny daggers with a cheeky smirk on his scarred lips. It was hard to tell whether he was offended. Either way, you decided to justify yourself—if anything to stop that horrifying crimson flush on your cheeks. _Loki thought your drawings were_ good _._ Only now you realised, however, that not only was his hair pitch black but Loki’s lips were not scarred either.

“It’s all I ever knew. Red hair, scarred lips, dark eyes… the myths are not exactly specific. I did not mean to be disrespectful. I _do_ honour you and Thor and Skadi and everyone… I just… I have always felt rather disconnected from my beliefs.” You admitted, almost embarrassed now.

Loki smiled to himself, absentmindedly and almost… _gently._

“Your pleas were a silent whisper, barely audible to the naked ear. Always submissive, always intimidated. Your sisters’, on the other hand were _screaming_ like a bilgesnipe being flayed alive.”

While you would not ask him what a bilgesnipe was, the gravity of his words nearly brought you to your knees. You swallowed thickly. He had heard you then. All those times you had asked him for a bloody sign, Loki had elected to never respond—and yet here he was now, in your bedroom, claiming your virginity.

“You heard me.” You stated bluntly, unable to hide the bitterness in your voice. There was a pallid taste in your mouth, all of a sudden. “You always heard me but you never reacted. W-why?”

“Do not question my ways, girl, or feel offended. It was for the best. You were not ready.” _Huh._ That was exactly what your sister used to say.

“But now I am?” You retorted, a little snappier than you had intended for it to sound.

“Let’s just say that my patience was wearing thin. I would have visited you much sooner had I been able to convince my _brother_ to put his beloved hammer down for a moment earlier.”

“Y-you suggested to pay Earth a visit?”

“Asgard can get rather boring after a while, believe it or not. Besides, Odin believed it would be an honourable thing to do. One of his whims, I presume.” Odin? You tilted your head. But Odin was his father. Why would he not address him as such? Quietly, you cleared your throat.

“Did I… I never offended you, did I? All those times I doubted, I never meant to…”

“You did not. It was rather amusing, to be truly honest, seeing you struggle with your faith in us. Be that as it may…” He said then, lifting his chin in an expectant manner. “You do believe in me right now, do you not?”

Swallowing, you nodded, too timid to meet his eyes again. You instead opted to study his black boots.

“I cannot bring myself to feel bad about what I told my sister. I’d much rather celebrate Christmas than kill a sheep and offer you and the other deities its _blood_.” Loki rolled his eyes, his expression revealing both annoyance and utter amusement.

“Only few families still practice such rituals. The _Vikings_ , as what they are known as in your world, barely had any other treasures to offer. It is rather barbaric. I would prefer the candy bowl over a sheep’s blood anytime, little maiden.”

Your face fell, hot flushes tormenting your body. “You _heard_ that?” For just a brief moment, his mischievous and hungry smirk was the only response you received.

“You would be surprised.” He finally said. Your cheeks heated up, turning pink so fast again you cleared your throat to distract him from your obvious embarrassment. All those times you had masturbated in your bedroom, with the altar in plain sight… “I know everything about you, little maiden. And I believe I know your body as well as I know your mind.” He continued darkly. His voice was so hoarse it sent pleasant shivers up and down your spine. There was no threat in it this time—only _hunger_.

“Wrap your arms around me.” He ordered with a start. Your eyes widened, heart skipping a beat. With only the slightest hesitation, you stepped up and did as you were told, the scent of leather, firewood, metal and ice filling your nostrils as you pressed your cheek against his hard chest. You blinked—next thing you knew, you were no longer standing in your room.

The secure walls around had disappeared, replaced by a vast landscape surrounded by countless trees and bushes—and right before you, a small lake glittering in the pale moonlight invited you to submerge underwater and let it cool your heated skin. A majestic old willow tree towered up into the sky, its long branches thick with green leaves surrounding part of the bank like a skeletal curtain.

You recognised the place from one of your drawings. It had come to you in dreams so many times you had lost count. Was that why he had picked it?

“We are in the heart of Scandinavia. I came here often back when Midgard was less ignorant about the gods in Asgard—it is a place for the peace of mind, truly. Is it not funny you have but so many drawings of this scenery?” _He knew_. He knew the answer to this question, of course. And so there was indeed something linking you to the mischievous god. You let go of him as if stung by an adder when you realised you were still holding on to his body, quickly lowering your gaze in utter submission. You had run out of snarky remarks for now.

“Tell me, little maiden… are you familiar with the term ‘godspouse’?” Your eyes widened.

“I… yes. But…” Loki shushed you, raising a finger in a gentle warning.

“Let me speak. I wish for you to be mine. Wholly, utterly and unconditionally. Should you choose to accept this proposal, I will allow no other man in your life. No mortal could ever give you what _I_ can give you. And in return, I will grant you my protection and good fortune. I may be the God of Mischief but I do care for my spouses.” He sounded stern and wildly determined, like he had had it all planned. Perhaps he had. He _had_ admitted to watching you, after all. By the Norns, this was all you could ever wish for and more and yet… becoming a godspouse meant such a huge commitment. No other men in your life? What if Loki never returned after this unexpected visit?

“You are hesitating.” He stated when you withheld a response.

“I just… this is so sudden. I fear…”

“…that you will never see me again after this?” He suggested. You nodded. Apparently, he could read your mind too.

Your breath caught in your throat when he purred your name. “I can see the hunger in your eyes. You long to touch me, do you not? You desire for me to kiss you, to claim you and mark you as mine with my seed, no?”

Your heart fluttered. _Norns_ , you couldn’t think straight when he talked dirty like that. Only Loki would accomplish to sound both depraved and graceful at the very same time. Could you trust him? He was right—every single word he had spoken, it was true. Despite your stubborn and naïve reluctance, you _longed_ for him to take your virginity; and this place…

“Be mine, little maiden. I want you…”

“I… I accept.” You were frozen in place, paralysed and unable to move when he smirked and approached you once more. You took a deep breath. Next thing you knew his lips were on yours. They were soft—much like his palms which cupped your face in a both gentle and dominant manner.

He captured you. Your mind shut off completely, your body obeying his every command. When had your arms come up to wrap around his neck? When had you jumped for him to carry you over to the ancient willow tree near the lake?

His lips never left yours when he lay you down on the cool grass like a fragile butterfly, his knees firmly pushing your knees apart, reminding you he was in charge, that he was going to _take_ what he desired—and that you were all too willing to give it to him.

It did not take him long to undress you. His magic simply melted your clothes away, leaving a tickling sensation behind as his seidr ghosted across your skin. Finally, he broke away, admiring his prize—his _spouse._

“Hmm… you look ravishing, sweet thing.” As if to emphasise his words, his mouth attacked your neck, a hungry growl escaping his lips. You whimpered when he began suckling on your sensitive skin, his teeth grazing over it teasingly. He chuckled, causing goose bumps to decorate your entire body.

“Loki…”

“Give yourself to me.” He responded, his voice hoarse and raspy. “All of you.”

“I do… I’m yours…” Your eyes fell shut, the pleasurable sensations too overwhelming. You dug your nails into his back, your legs wrapping around his hips—and when he finally melted his own clothes away with his seidr, your breath caught in your throat, your heart in your mouth. His naked skin against yours felt so _right_ , intimate. Your arousal heightened, heat pooling between your legs.

Loki was beautiful, in every sense of the word. His body, paler than you would have imagined an Asgardian to be but well-defined, appeared to have been carved from marble. You sucked in a deep breath when his manhood, standing proud, brushed against your outer lips that were already slick with your juices.

A moan escaped your lips when his tip teased your sensitive bundle of nerves, his soft hands exploring your breasts. You threw your head back, unable to hide your anticipation. You knew that perhaps you should have felt a little awkward—being a virgin, there was little you could do to drive him into ecstasy as well. All passive, you lay underneath him at his mercy, letting him do to your body and mind as he pleased.

But this was a _god_ you were bedding, and Loki knew exactly which buttons he had to press. Mimicking your own movements from when you masturbated in your room, he snuck a hand between you and played with your clit until he had you on the brink of orgasm. You arched your back in a desperate attempt to be even closer to him, letting out a disappointed whine when he stopped.

“Ah, ah, ah… patience, my little godspouse. I wish to feel you come undone while I am _inside_ of you.” Your walls clenched upon his naughty remark. Impatient now, he grabbed a hold of your wrists, pinning them both down above your head with one hand. With the other he guided his hard length into your tight quim. Loki took his time, ensuring he would not unnecessarily cause you any more pain than what you would be experiencing due to your innocence, sheathing himself inside of you inch by inch. You flinched when he broke the thin barrier giving away under the impact of his intrusion but the sharp pain lasted for only a moment—too intoxicating was the pleasure he inflicted on you.

When he started moving, he whispered your name in such a seductive manner you began to fear you would pass out. “Don’t stop breathing.”

You let out the huge breath you did not realise you had been holding, looking up at him with glazed eyes. He smirked, lowering his face to kiss you once more. Loki was surprisingly tender, rocking you both towards orgasm so caringly you felt the urge to shed tears of emotion. You did not. Instead, you found your eyes rolling to the back of your head when he sped up his movements, each and every thrust a powerful reminder of who you belonged to.

His name escaped your lips like a prayer when his fingers returned to your throbbing bundle of nerves, so desperate for more attention. He had you right where he wanted you within a matter of seconds, so close to your release your toes curled.

“Hmm… cum for me, my sweet little thing. I can feel you clenching around me. _Cum._ Cum for your god.”

“Oh… fuck… Loki…” Unable to form any more functioning sentences, you let bliss consume you. You were drowning—drowning in the way Loki made you feel. Your tight walls fluttered around his hard length, milking him for all he was worth as you did as you were told and came screaming his name again and again. Your orgasm tore through you like a lightning, sending shockwaves of pure pleasure through your limbs. As he helped you ride it out and drag it out for as long as he could, you could feel Loki’s lips ghosting over your chin like the wings of a butterfly. He followed you suit, emptying himself inside of you with an animalistic growl. His rod jerking against your walls, coating your quim with his seed.

Without a warning, he rolled you both over so fast you were unable to react properly. You came to rest on his chest with your cunt still enveloping his cock.

“Wow…” was all you managed to whisper out of breath. Loki chuckled, the mischievous sound vibrating in his chest. You smiled, dazed.

“You do remind me of wildfire, little maiden. You are fiery and feisty… you _will_ entertain me a great deal, will you not?” He mused, his hot breath brushing against your sensitive neck. You shivered in response, unable to hide your slight flinch when you felt him slip something hard and cold on your wrist. Startled, you looked down. His long and soft fingers stroking the back of your hand felt wonderful, yet it was the golden cuff bracelet which caught your attention. In midst of a complicated and intricate Nordic pattern sat the rune _kenaz._ Loki’s rune. Your heart warmed.

“Wear this always. I believe you know what it means, do you not?”

“It is your rune, the torch.”

“A fitting symbol for you, wouldn’t you agree?”

“Y-yes…” You replied sheepishly, your cheeks heating up.

“Then wear it with pride. Let them all know who you belong to now.”

A little alarmed, you looked up at him with wide eyes. “Y-you… you are not leaving already, are you?”

“I have until dusk. Worry not, little maiden. You will see me again _very_ soon. I do aim to _tend_ to my mortal spouses, you know?” Chuckling darkly, he pressed a tender kiss on top of your head. Who would have thought you would feel so warm and protected in the God of Mischief’s arms? You fought against gravity to keep your eyelids open but it soon won the battle. Spent and satisfied, you drifted off to sleep, your cheek resting against his chest as you listened to his still rapid heartbeat.

-

When you woke again, you were back in your room, tucked into bed like a sleepy child, with the blanket covering your whole body to keep you warm. Loki was nowhere to be found. Outside, it was dark, the street lights illuminating the deserted neighbourhood. It was so quiet you could hear the blood rushing in your ears, yet the silence was not eerie. It was peaceful, calming, the slight ache between your legs a delicious reminder of what had happened only hours before.

Absentmindedly, your hand sought out the cuff bracelet around your wrist, the metal warmed by your skin by now. It must have been in the middle of the night but there was no way you could go back to sleep now. Too many thoughts tumbled around in your head like an anthill. You were a godspouse. _Loki’s_ godspouse. What would your sister say to that? And how would your life become in future? You were very well aware Loki’s methods were _chaotic_ , to say the least. _If you want change, you have to invite chaos._ And if he felt like you _needed_ change, he would make sure to throw your life into turmoil. You almost chuckled at the thought. _Norns._ But you trusted he would take care of you, in his very own cheeky way.

Biting your lower lip, you threw back the covers and stood, flinching when you felt something cool dribbling down your naked legs. His seed. His seed had still been inside of you. Another wave of arousal tore through you, having you wipe it all away with a tissue only reluctantly before sitting down at your desk all nude. With but a few eager movements, you prepared a blank sheet of paper and your pencils and lit a black candle, your hand practically flying over the empty canvas of your choice. _Raven hair, blue eyes, Asgardian armour_. You remembered every single detail, inspiration singeing your skin like liquid fire dancing in your blood.

He was watching you. You could feel it. The candle flickered—and you smiled. He had promised, after all, to come back for you soon. You honestly could not wait.

**Author's Note:**

> I’m not an expert on paganism/Lokeans but I am endlessly fascinated with the research I did. Do forgive me please if some things were weird or inaccurate for the purpose of this (MCU) story! Also, make sure to say hello on my Tumblr (@sserpente) to find more of my writing! ♥


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